


We Got A Good Thing Here

by Adry1412



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Humor, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Ghost Sex, Ghost!Daryl, M/M, Negan gets ghost ass, Real Estate Agent!Negan, Sexual Content, Spectrophilia, bottom!daryl, fucking scrub, ghost story, poor dwight can't catch a break, top!Negan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 06:47:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14538984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adry1412/pseuds/Adry1412
Summary: Based off this text post: http://thecw4kids.tumblr.com/post/152610530918/ghost-in-the-house-get-out-i-will-take-you-realReal estate agent Negan can't seem to sell this house and he knows damn well why he can't.





	We Got A Good Thing Here

**Author's Note:**

> Wow! Sure has been a while huh?? I swear I still write!! And I have other negaryl fics in the works, but here's a short silly smutty ghostly fic to hold y'all over!

“Wait, please don’t go! It’s uh-it ain’t want it seems.” He grinned, chasing after the young couple storming out of the house.

“No! No fucking way I’m going into that haunted fucking house! Fuck that!” The woman yelled, wiping her long dreads from her face and grabbing her husband’s hand. He smiled awkwardly, waving his hand to try and calm her.

“Now, Michy. Let’s talk a minute, okay?”

“No, Rick! I ain’t living in a goddamn house! That’s some fucked up white people horror movie shit and I ain’t playing that game!”

“Ma’am, please, let’s be reasonable.” Negan coughed, putting on his best confident smile even if he was kicking himself a million times over.

“Ain’t nothing reasonable about a damn haunted house!”

She slammed the car door as she got in, crossing her arms and huffing. The husband came back to Negan, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey, sorry man. But uh, you know how it is, right? Gotta do what the wife says.”

“I understand. And you have my card in cause you wanna see any other houses.”

“Thank you, Mr. uh…”

“Just Negan is fine.”

“Thank you, Negan.”

“No problem, Mr. Grimes. Good luck house hunting.”

Negan watches the man get into the car and waved as they sped away. He sighed hard, pinching the bridge of his nose and heading to his car. He didn’t get in though, instead pulling a six pack of beers from the trunk. He turned and slammed it close before going back into the house.

He’d been trying to sell this place for two years now, every time ending with the customers leaving in a panic, some angry and some scared so bad Negan heard they had to get therapy afterwards. He cursed and kicked a rock across the perfectly manicured lawn. Two years of trying to sell this fucking house and two years of three afternoons every week in it’s living room with a few beers.

It wasn’t a bad house. A simple two story folk victorian with a beautiful porch that partially wrapped around the house. The roof was triangular with tall windows on every side. It screamed “quaint” and honestly seemed like a perfect home for both an older couple who wanted to settle down ot for even a younger one, like the folks who just fled, who enjoyed the vintage feel of the place. It sat back flush against the woods and although it was aged, it wasn’t broken down. The shutters were all in place and recently repainted, not a screw out of place and looking like it had jumped out of a period piece, thanks to Negan’s eye for details.

He sighed again as he stood on the steps, touching the wooden columns that held the porch roof. The house was so perfect. Sure, it was a bit simple, even with it’s crown molding and freshly installed lattice under the porch, but it had character. Negan smirked and pushed the front door open, yeah. It had character alright. One in particular.

“GET OUT! TURN BACK OR SUFFER-”

“Shut the fuck up, Daryl, it’s me.” Negan rolls his eyes as he walks in and into the living room. He ignores the blood rolling thick out of the walls and the ungodly thumping of the windows. He curses quietly, glad when they stop and none are broken. If he had to replace any more of them, he’d snap and break the fucker’s neck and kill him….

...well, if ghosts could die twice, that was.

“Negan!” He looks up and sees the man running down the stairs. Well, not running but..umm, well!- sorta running! Feet didn’t touch the floor but the motions were there. “Did you sell the house?”

“Obviously not, asshole!” Negan laughs, slumping into the plush sofa and undoing his tie. Screw the office, they’d call him if they needed him. “Definitely not after that stunt you pulled today. Ya really needed to throw plates? You know I have to replace them now right?”

Daryl just chuckled, falling back next to Negan. He didn’t dent the couch, seeming more to rest on top of it but looking relaxed nonetheless. He reached for a beer and opened it easily enough, tossing the cap on the coffee table as Negan did the same. “Listen, Negan, I’m sorry. I really am! But there was no way that couple could have lived here.”

“Why the fuck not? They seemed nice enough to me.”

Daryl huffed and rolled his eyes. “Weren’t you listening? They have two kids. Kids! Ya know I hate kids.”

Negan shook his head and took long pulls of his beer, sighing out with it now half empty. “Christ, Daryl. This couple had kids, last guy was into yoga, lady before him was into baking. Seems like you got a problem with everyone!”

“Not everyone. Just kids, yoga, and baking!”

Negan and Daryl laughed loud, both amused with how fucking difficult Daryl could be. He was a stubborn son of a bitch and Negan couldn’t help but smirk when he looked him over.

He wasn’t what Negan had assumed ghosts would be like. Though, Daryl did state that the term “ghost” wasn’t politically correct and he prefers the term “specter”. If Negan was honest, the boy was more of a damn poltergeist with his constant antics. But he wasn’t the usual image people conjured when they thought of the afterlife. The age old idea of a shapeless, clear form that bobbed along from room to room, wailing at all hours of the night, wasn’t accurate. Sure, Daryl did make some fucking haunting noises when he wanted too. Negan still shivers when he thinks of the howling he’s heard when trying to show the house to a potential customer.

He wasn’t a wispy, cloudy figure, insteading looking very solid, and Negan still found himself being transfixed on his features. His hair was the way Negan assumed he had while living, a shaggy mess that hung flat and straight with slight a curl at the ends by the nape of his neck. He always wore the same outfit and Negan swallowed when he thought that that must have been what the boy died in; faded jeans and even more faded plain black tee shirt. If anything resembled the classic idea of ghosts it would be the strange way color seemed to have left Daryl. His hair was a light shade of brown, looking more like a lack of the brown pigment than anything else. It wasn’t like he was blond, because he clearly wasn’t. His skin was sickeningly pale, looking like a sheet of tracing paper and almost translucent with his blue eyes even paler. All his colors just seemed...drained. He seemed washed out and it could be jarring to walk into a room and come face to face with his otherworldly appearance. If he was being honest, it had scared the fuck out of him when they first met.

Also he floated. Yeah..his feet never touched the floor.

But no, the boy wasn’t like those old movies. He wasn’t like Casper and he definitely wasn’t friendly. Well, not to people who weren’t Negan.

They laughed on the couch, struggling to catch their breaths (if Daryl could even breathe) after a particularly funny story Negan had shared from the water cooler earlier that day. His coworker Dwight just couldn’t catch a break and Daryl loved to hear of the poor man’s situations and how today the dumb fucking scrub had managed to lock his keys in the car and swore he could get in through the trunk. Plot twist: he couldn’t and ended up having to break his window.

Negan watched Daryl laugh, feeling a fluttering in his belly but ignoring it quickly. He looked over to the beer Daryl finished, still full yet paler in color where it rested on the table and next to his pale leg. He couldn’t really drink the stuff but he said he could still taste it. Also claimed he could get drunk and that it affected him more since he “took its energy” or some shit but Negan was pretty sure the boy was just a damn lightweight. He sipped his own second beer, taking a deep breath and relaxing back some more.

“Hey, you never told me how you died.”

The air seemed to change between them and Negan regretted it immediately. He watched the pale eyes turn away from him and he swallowed hard, backtracking. “Listen, I’m..I’m sorry. I should’ve asked.”

“No, no, it’s okay. You..you deserve to know.” Daryl chuckled, “Hell, you’re the only friend I got. If I can’t tell you...who can I tell?”

“Don’t gotta tell anyone, if you don’t want too.”

Daryl sighed and Negan reached to touch his shoulder. He’d done it before, always shocked when his hand didn’t move through the man like in the movies but instead touched a solid mass. But even if he did touch Daryl, he still sucked in a breath at the feel. He was freezing, like the inside of an ice box on a summer day when the heat seemed to punch you in the gut. Negan shivered when Daryl did but squeezed anyway, eyes widening when he saw purple marks appear on his neck. It looked like a handprint..

“My brother killed me.” Daryl huffed, shaking his head and Negan watched the now not so frightening face he had grown used to turn a mismatch of color. Daryl’s eyes became bloodshot and swollen, bruises seeming to form as he kept watching, and cuts appearing with frozen blood that wouldn’t drip. “He..he didn’t like that I liked men.” Negan gulped, feeling his chest clench at the similarity, knowing that rejection all too well from people he trusted. But…. he had survived. “Beat me bad. Too bad, I guess. I..” He laughed dryly. “I never got up from the kitchen floor.”

“Daryl, I…”

Negan blinked away some tears, staring again when the bruised face turned to him and in another blink returned back to normal. Well, back to the way it was. Normal was a subjective word and in no way did it encompass anything about Daryl. “It’s alright, Negan. It was a long time ago. Mah brother’s probably long dead by now.”

“Why...why are you still here?”

Daryl shrugged heavy shoulders, looking down at his feet. “He buried me under the porch. Guess I can’t really go anywhere, you know?”

Negan wondered if he could change this. If he went under the porch and dug Daryl’s bones up...would the boy be at peace? Would he go wherever it was spirits went when they got a proper burial? Would Daryl...leave? He sighed deep, leaning forward to wrap his arms around the freezing man. He pulled him close, holding his head to his chest and sighing into Daryl’s hair. The boy hugged him back and Negan was struck with a feeling he never thought he’d admit to have.

He didn’t want Daryl to leave…

They pulled away after a moment, neither going very far and amber eyes locking on pale blue ones. Negan’s skin tingled where Daryl’s touched his. Cold patches made him shiver where those thin hands made contact, traveling slowly up his chest and to his neatly trimmed beard. He turned into the hand and kissed the frigid palm. He saw concern in fragile blues mixed with almost translucent pupils dilating slowly. “Negan..”

“Shh.” He shushed him, taking the hand and leaning forward to press his lips to Daryl’s. The kiss was small, almost non-existence and he swore it exemplified every thing about the man in his arms. He leaned forward again, sighing when icy lips parted and he could slip his tongue inside. It was like eating a breath mint and immediately taking a sip of cold water, Negan feeling the bite throughout his mouth when Daryl sucked on the invading muscle. He wondered how something so cold could be so hot; his body heating up in excitement. He remembered briefly the York Peppermint Patty commercials with the people on top of the mountain, yelling out in bliss at the minty flavor and cool feeling, and almost laughed.

But he didn’t laugh, instead groaning. He gripped the cold body closer, pitching forward to lay on top of the man. Negan felt his heart pick up when he felt those thin arms wrap around his shoulders and Daryl moaned, low and haunting. He didn’t want to pull away, locking his lips against the other’s and working his tongue in ways he was sure would drag more delicious noises from the smaller man. He groaned loud and paused briefly, kissing against the jaw and down to a taunt neck.

Negan nipped and sucked on the icy skin, kissing every spot despite no red marks appearing. Daryl obviously didn’t have blood and he shook his head, feeling so dumb. But he didn’t stop his attack, no, he still enjoyed feeling the man react to the bites. Daryl moaned out, body arching and grinding his hips against Negan’s and both men could feel the other’s arousal.

Well... it seemed he did have some blood then.

He really should have wondered how a ghost, sorry specter, could become aroused but he decided against asking. Probably should have asked about why Daryl was panting even if he didn’t breathe but he, once again, decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. Might as well enjoy what was happening, right? Stay in the moment and all that jazz.

He bit back up to Daryl’s lips, groaning as they met with a fire he swore the cold man couldn’t even feel. They worked their tongues together, Negan dominating the kiss and pulling back to suck on his bottom lip. “Negan..”

“Shh, I got you.” He leaned back a bit, kneeling between Daryl’s legs as his hands froze on the tee shirt hem. How would this work? He looked up, grateful when the man chuckled and reached down to pull his shirt off; throwing it somewhere in the room before sitting up excitedly and unbuttoning Negan’s own. But the voice in his head still questioned the logistics of what he assumed would be coming next. “Wait, Daryl...”

“What?” He stopped, still sitting up with his cadaverous fingers still at a button. His eyes were blown out, looking more blue than ever before and Negan took a moment to stare into them. He ran a hand over Daryl’s cheek, letting himself admire his phantasmal beauty.

“How..how would this work?”

For what it was worth, Daryl’s smile took a large weight out of Negan’s chest. The boy laughed and began tearing at the buttons again before throwing the shirt open and kissing at Negan’s chest, burying his nose in the hair. He spoke between nips and icy licks, “Same as if I were alive. But you don’t... need anything, if you catch my drift. Just some spit will work, I can take care of the rest.” He winked up Negan, licking a strip over his navel and the real estate agent wondered briefly if he understood what he was talking about. He’d seen the things Daryl could produce to scare potential buyers; stairways becoming slick with just a thought from the man and blood trickling down walls with a single glance.

Negan chuckled, cupping Daryl’s chin and pulling his face up and away from his chest to meet his eyes. “That so? Gonna use some spooky ghost tricks to get laid?” They both laughed, Negan thankful that they were so insync and carefree that they could enjoy themselves. He leaned down, locking his lips back against Daryl’s while those wicked fingers started working on his belt and zipper.

He sucked in a breath when freezing fingers wrapped around his member. His body shivering as Daryl stroked him from root to tip, clenching his eyes at the intoxicating feeling. He threw his head back, closing his eyes and breathing deep as Daryl jerked him. He used his two hands and Negan blushed at the silent compliment, though he always knew he was fairly well endowed. He shouted out at the stinging cold at the tip where Daryl was licking him, reaching blindly to grip his pale hair.

He dropped his head, staring down at where Daryl was sucking.. He had both hands working the length and Negan felt himself twitch at the image. Pale, blue-ish lips wrapped around this cock head, cheeks hollow and looking even more guant than usual. He touched his cheekbones, almost spilling when those supernatural eyes locked on his. Holy shit...

He panted, giving the man a minute before tugging him away with a lewd pop and slick lips. “Gonna make me come too fast, baby.” Those now bright blues smiled back at him, Daryl laying down and lifting his legs to rid himself of the faded jeans. It seemed he couldn’t wait any longer and Negan thanked his stars, because it he had to wait any more to get inside the apparition, he swore he would burst.

He wrapped himself around Daryl’s nude body, shuddering at the feel of polar skin against his own. It was like hugging a statue, cold and firm and if the comparison was to go any further, he could write volumes on how Daryl’s beauty outweighed any of the limbless relecks of ancient Greece.

He kissed at the man’s lips before reaching a hand up and shoving two fingers in the specter’s mouth. “Suck.” he commanded, watching with rapt attention when his order was followed. Daryl licked and sucked at the digits, saliva coating them evenly and glistening when Negan pulled them away from swollen lips. He reached down, prodding and rubbing against the puckered hole between marble legs. He grunted when a finger slipped in easily, some slick seeming to spill out as Daryl threw his head and shouted.

Negan flinched, the noise sounding too similar to the late night wailings the man had made before. Yeah, sometimes Daryl acted like a proper ghost but Negan felt his cock twitch at that idea. He was actually doing this! He was actually fucking a ghost! Sorry...specter. He was fucking a specter…well, not a specter but the who’s mere existence had made him question every belief he had ever had and gripped his heart with those fluttery, soft feelings he swore he would never feel again.

“Holy shit..” Negan pushed and pulled his finger before adding the second while Daryl let out another howl. He panted and spread his fingers, eyes locked on the blissed out faces Daryl made. It was like watching his own personal porno, the man putting all those cheesy actors to shame with the authenticity. He grinned wolfishly, licking behind his front teeth and huffing. “Tell me, baby. Has it been a while? Or are you just sensitive?”

“Honest? Bit of both.” Daryl chuckled, arching to get the digits even deeper inside. “Not since before..well, you know.”

Negan hummed, licking his lips and thrusting his fingers in as deep as they’d go. He crooked them, rubbing along Daryl’s walls and drinking in his moans and screams. He was sure he could make the specter come from fingering alone but he didn’t want that. He sat back, pulling his fingers free and spitting his hand. Daryl watched with half lid eyes as Negan stroked himself a few times, pulling his legs further back before Negan leaned forward.

He lined himself up, taking Daryl’s lips against his own once more before pushing in.

It was like….like...

Like sticking his dick in a damn ice box, his mind supplied. He huffed, again with the damn ice box!

He groaned and pushed forward, only pulling back half way out before thrusting back in again to the base and pulling their lips apart to pant. He watched Daryl throw his head back, sure his own eyes were pure black by now and not caring as he leaned down to bite that porcelain column again. He felt more than heard Daryl moaning and swallowing hard, his own ears being useless with the blood rushing through them. “Holy fuck...you’re so tight.”

“M-move..” Daryl sighed, grabbing hard to Negan’s shoulders.

“Anything for you, darling.”

Negan pulled back, only leaving the tip in before diving back in. He cursed quietly, doing it again. Part of him knew he didn’t have to go so slow, the idea of hurting a phantom sounding stupid even in his own head, but he couldn’t help but want to draw this out.

Well, Negan wanted to draw it out. Daryl seemed to be wanting something different. “Faster..please..”

Negan smiled, shifting up to grab onto Daryl’s legs and wrapping them around his waist. He sped up his hips, grunting loud at the new position letting his cock get even deeper. The specter was so cold, so icy and Negan shivered again. His body was so hot, the tight hole feeling so refreshing and making his spine tingle in a way he never thought he’d enjoy. It stole his breath and soon he was panting hard, barely pulling out before slamming back in at a brutal speed. “Holy shit, baby...ain’t gonna last.”

Daryl couldn’t talk, his own cock hard against his frosty belly and still pale in color. His skin didn’t seem to have any contrast, every ashen inch blending into itself and Negan blinked a few times before grabbing onto it and stroking.

The man wailed and thrashed about, body shaking and vibrating in energy. Negan flinched and grit his teeth as he thrust, every haunting sound from Daryl’s lips drawing him closer to the edge. With ice around his waist, in his hand, and, most importantly, around his cock, he felt his balls tighten.

He began to come when Daryl’s ghastly screaming hit a fever pitch, the house’s windows and doors slamming open and shut. Negan heard the kitchen cabinets rattling and crashing as the specter came. He himself shouting and finishing at the sight of clear ectoplasm-like fluid shooting onto a blanched tummy, toes curling as he milked himself with Daryl’s clenching hole.

The house calmed after a moment, both men collapsing and panting on the couch. They held onto each other, both bodies shaking for different reasons yet satisfied in their post-orgasm bliss. Negan shivered at the cold as clay body under his and Daryl shook as his energy was drained out of him. Negan pulled back after a moment of coming down, turning to kiss Daryl’s frosty cheek. “Christ...that was amazing.”

Daryl simply chuckled, shifting to let Negan lay on the couch and wrapping his aparitional arm across a hairy chest. “You can say that again.”

“Christ, that was amazing.”

“Jackass.”

They both laughed, Negan’s shitting joke pulling at their lips. Silence fell comfortably around them, Negan’s sweat cooling as his mind wondered. He thought of so many things, of what it meant to be with a ghost and if it were even possible to continue this. He liked Daryl a lot..more than he should like a dead man. His mind was becoming heavy, heart aching a bit before Daryl spoke up and calmed him.

“I think you should live here. You know, like...with me.”

Negan stared at the ceiling, taking in the timid words before looking down at the nervous specter. “Yeah? You’d want me too?” Daryl nodded shyly, ghostly hand tracing small circles through his chest hair. He looked so small, so beaten down by a life, and afterlife, full of rejection. Negan smiled, leaning to kiss the top of Daryl’s head. “I think I should too. Better than trying to sell it over and over with that damned ghost always scaring away all my customers.”

“Hey, fuck you! I’m a specter!” Daryl giggled, light and airy and Negan couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Hell, if living with the man meant his days would be filled with phantasmal laughing and amazing lovemaking with the added promise of happiness even after death, then how could Negan turn the man down? Hell, maybe one day they’d both be scaring away house hunters with bleeding walls and slamming cabinets.

“Yeah, baby. Of course, I’ll live here with ya.” Negan smiled, chuckling when Daryl leaned up to kiss him again, the small series of pecks looking like they’ll be turning into a nice routine.

They relaxed back, sighing happily and running lazy hands over each other. Negan smirked and paused his hand from running up and down Daryl’s back, raising an eyebrow at the man.

“By the way, your cum looks an awful lot like stuff you sent down the stairs when Ms. Williams tried to move in. You weren’t thinking of me that day, were you?”

Negan accepted the smack to his chest but couldn’t stop laughing at the faint blush on Daryl’s cheeks. He guessed ghosts did have some blood!

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯  
> Please comment and lemme know what y'all think!!


End file.
